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Chapter Three

“About time you showed up,” Buffy scolded Faith lightly as she smiled at the buxom brunette with the ruby red lips. “I was getting worried.”

Faith came into the kitchen with a little shrug, “I got tied up at work. You could have called.”

“I was just about to call your house.”

“No, B, my cell.”

Buffy shook her head, “You know how I feel about those things.”

“Buffy . . . “ Faith started and then stopped, peering at Spike. “Hi. Who are you?”

Spike cleared his throat, “I’m Spike, Anya’s boyfriend.”

“Spike?” Faith snorted. “Please tell me that’s not your real name.”

He scowled slightly at her, which caused Buffy to smile softly. She’d been wondering about his nickname as well but hadn’t felt quite comfortable enough to ask him about it. Anya, God love her, had never asked. She’d just been stuck on the fact that it was kinky and sexy and had proceeded to color Buffy a picture of what he could ‘spike’ her with. Buffy had asked her to please stop as hearing about Anya’s sexcapades were oftentimes too much for her. Especially since Buffy herself wasn’t getting any and probably wouldn’t for a very long time.

“No, my real name is William. William Gardner. I’ve had my nickname since I was born. Actually, since I was a fetus.”

Leaning her hip against the kitchen counter, Faith eyed him, “Really?”

He smiled sheepishly at Buffy. “My Aunt Jenny used to tease my Mum when my Mum was trying to pick out names for me that she was just going to call me Spike. No one knew why, it was just a name that popped out. She teased my Mum relentlessly about it so when I was born she was the only one that would call me that. Much to my mother’s chagrin—“

“Your mom’s what?” Faith said, knitting her brows together.

“Disappointment; distress,” Buffy supplied.

Spike grinned at her, “Thanks, pet.”

Buffy shrugged, “Anytime. So, the name stuck for a long time huh?”

Spike nodded, “It did. Mostly because when I was in school I got bullied a lot for being something of a nerd. By high school I was pretty fed up with it so I kind of changed my persona one summer. Took kickboxing and learned how to defend myself. After I got teased as soon as school started, I kicked the guy’s ass. I started calling myself Spike from then on. Put fear in the hearts of the little kiddies,” he said with a smirk.

Buffy giggled. “Spike the Big Bad, I get it.”

He smiled warmly at her and nodded, “Thanks pet. I like that.”

“So was the hair part of the ‘change’? Cause no way is that natural,” Faith drawled.

He chuckled, “Yeah that was part of it.”

Faith shrugged, “All right. I hate to break this party up and all, but I’m starving. Food left?”

Buffy nodded, “Yep, all on the deck with everyone.”

“Shit, Xander didn’t eat all the hamburgers did he?” Faith whined.

“I’ll grill up some more for you, Faith,” Spike volunteered.

Faith eyed him suspiciously, “Thanks.”

“Thank you Spike, you don’t have to –“ Buffy started.

“Nonsense, I want to. Plus I could go for a burger as well. Hey, kitten, can you show me where the bathroom is? Just dawned on me I haven’t used it since I got here.”

Buffy jumped into action, “Oh sure, of course. Follow me. “

Faith watched them leave and narrowed her eyes. “Kitten?” she said softly to the empty kitchen.

************

“Buffy, luv?” Spike asked just before Buffy could walk away and leave him to the bathroom.

“Yeah?” she asked, turning around.

“You still won’t use a cell phone?”

Buffy looked down, “No, I won’t. After . . . after that night, I threw mine against a tree, repeatedly, making sure it completely fell apart. And I hate calling anyone on theirs. The idea that . . . “ She shook her head, “I just can’t make myself do it.”

“Buffy, it was a drunk driver that hit Doyle,” Spike reminded her softly. As if he had any right to remind her. He didn’t. So why was he?

“Yeah, but if I hadn’t been talking to him on his cell, he would have been able to focus better on what was going on. He,” she broke off, her voice clogged with emotion, “he hated talking on those things in the car.”

Spike reached out and touched her shoulder, glided his hand down her arm to her hand and took it in his own, giving it a squeeze. “It’s not your fault, Buffy.”

“So I’ve been told. Repeatedly,” she said, slightly bitter. “Doesn’t help my conscience much.”

Spike nodded, “Until you can reconcile yourself with it, hearing it won’t make it better.”

“Exactly.”

“I had the same problem with my parents. I sometimes think if I hadn’t begged to go visit my friends, maybe it wouldn’t have happened. Like somehow fate was changed by my leaving.”

Buffy cocked her head to the side, “Like a wrinkle in time? Like somehow the act of your leaving caused something to shift and set a ball in motion that otherwise wouldn’t have happened?”

“Exactly,” Spike breathed, amazed by the petite woman in front of him. She understood. She knew. Maybe he could tell her about the transplant . . . God, no. He hadn’t even told Anya about that. Thankfully, she allowed him to keep his shirt on during sex. And she’d never asked. How was it that she never asked? Just said “That’s kinky” and moved on. Buffy though, she would ask—whoa there, Spike. Not good to be thinking of Buffy in terms of making love to her. She’s your girlfriend’s best friend, he scolded himself. He shouldn’t even have to tell himself that. He should just know, and his traitorous mind shouldn’t have even gone there to have to scold himself. Going around in circles now mate, he thought.

“I do the same thing,” Buffy admitted softly. “I wonder if there was something I could have done differently. Not just that day but everything leading up to it.”

“Does it keep you up at night, wondering what you could have done?”

Relief flooded her eyes, “Yes,” she whispered.

Their eyes met and held and Spike thought for the second time that day – So young and so beautiful to have such tragedy.

Clearing her throat and disengaging her hand from his grasp she shook her head and gestured to the soft yellow colored bathroom. “I’m going to check on my guests.”

He nodded, suddenly feeling his throat clogged with some kind of emotion he couldn’t put a name to. All he knew was that he felt something for Buffy; felt her to be a kindred spirit. Anya was a caring woman, pretty and kind and -- again Spike, he thought scornfully, stop comparing the two women!

Yet he couldn’t help himself from saying before she walked away from him completely, “When I get outside, I’ll teach you how to use the grill. Sound good?”

Buffy broke into a wide smile, “Perfect.”





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